The Crystal Mirror
by Lionflight
Summary: Lyra and Will have been seperated for three years. But something has occurred. A smith dubbed Kerry Johnson has created a mirror that might enable them to see each other once more and together build the Republic of Heaven. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**The Crystal Mirror**

Chapter 1: The Garden

_It had been three years. Threes years since the fall of Metatron, Lord Regent. Three years since Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter had sent themselves plunging into the abyss. Three years since a simple kiss had saved all the universes. And three years since two friends and lovers had been thrust apart by the forces of the two universes they dubbed home. But it had also been three years since a simple smith by the name of Kerry Johnson had quit his low-paying career to create something… to create a mirror._

The sunlight streamed across the expanse of the Botanic Garden, traversing backward as morning became noon. It cast its rays upon a young girl, skirt neatly folded beneath her, sitting on the old bench in the middle of all the greenery.

She held something clothed in black velvet to her breast, hot tears rolling down her face.

A red-gold marten sat at her feet, tail wrapped around its paws gracefully.

"Lyra! Lyra!"

The girl looked up at once, her gaze full of despair. She mouthed something slowly, teardrops splattering to the ground.

"Will… Will…"

The marten cast her a saddened glance and said, "Dame Hannah is waiting."

Lyra nodded. Dame Hannah and the bording school had agreed (after much teary-eyed pleading) to let her go to the Botanic Garden once a year without supervision. But she could only spend an hour there, and though that was all she really needed, it seemed to fly by like a minute.

"I know, Pan. It's just…"

Pantalaimon understood. He felt the same way about Kirjava that she felt about Will. And knowing they were so close comforted him.

Lyra reached out one more time, touching the air where Will's face would have been… in another world.

"Lyra!"

The girl jumped off the bench and grasped Pan, walking out of the garden, all the while thinking about the miserable ride back to the bording school.

***

But what Lyra didn't know was that at that very moment, a man in his late twenties was cackling with pleasure.

"It's done." He whispered, finally lowering his head and ending his laughter, a barbaric smile plastered across his features.

"The mirror is done!" he howled, rubbing his filthy hands together. His daemon, a loud hyena, nudged his leg in happiness.

"We've just made the greatest scientific discovery ever!"

The man had serious doubts about that fact, but nonetheless it sent his heart soaring. And he bent down to pick up the slick piece of crystal.

"I must be careful, Decima. One wrong move and the frail thing could shatter."

Decima acknowledged his words wearily, and stepped aside to let him pass, the man practically vibrating with joy. He placed the flat crystal circle down on one of the shelves. Then he set to work, putting it securely in a brass frame, more durable then gold or silver but also much rougher and less beautiful looking. It didn't matter. It was still the mirror.

Then he held it up by the handle and clapped his hands. Decima barked with happy laughter, her shrill cry piercing.

"We've done it, Kerry!" she said between hysteric giggles.

"Yes, we have!" said Kerry, bending low to stare into the crystal's clear depths.

***

Lyra Silvertongue lay in her bed at Romulsa Boarding School For Girls. Her blankets were pulled up to the nape of her neck as she tossed and turned, Pantalaimon sitting on a stool nearby, watching her helplessly as she had a dream. The same terror she felt engulfed him and he wondered desperately what she was dreaming.

In fact, Lyra was not having a dream. She was having a nightmare. Back when she was eleven, so young and courageous, she'd had a nightmare. It was when she'd switched all the daemon coins underneath the skulls in the Master's tomb. Pan had begged her not to do it, and when she waked up scared stiff, she'd switched them back immediately, apologizing frantically. This dream was a lot like that except it was a lot different, too.

_Blackness was everywhere, and Lyra walked. She heard footsteps behind her, but she daren't turn around to see what it was. She just kept moving, her pace becoming faster and faster as the footsteps got louder and louder. Then suddenly she could see a bright surface. She hurried to it, coming close enough to see exactly what it was. _

_It was a mirror, and she could see her own reflection in it. Silently, she marveled at how grown-up she looked. She hadn't looked in a mirror for a long while, contrary to the other girls at Romsula. But as she stared harder into its depths, a face began to appear. She gasped._

_It was the face of Will exactly how she remembered him, except older in a way. His face was more narrow, his eyebrows more slanted. His hair was a bit longer, too, a bedraggled look. But his eyes… They still held the fierce pure gaze he wore long ago. He was still her Will._

_But just as soon as the image appeared it was gone and replaced by a scary man, young but so aged. He had a ragged beard and a flat skinny face. And his eyes were a pale blue. In the background, Lyra could almost see the form of his daemon, the shape of a queer dog. But she didn't care about that anymore. She wanted to see Will's face again._

_And then something very frightening happened. The man's face melted away to show a skull, blood trickling out of its eye sockets and mouth. A serpent wriggled in and out of the openings, its scaly skin a pale white. And a black rat sat on top of the skull. It whispered something in a quiet voice. It said:_

"_Death can occur to people even when they're alive…"_

_The image stayed there long enough for Lyra to see the powerful snake lunge at the rat._

She awoke, screaming. Pan leaped toward her at once and she caught him, holding him tight to her chest. He breathed in the warm scent of her flesh and listened to her wondorous heartbeat.

"Lyra… Lyra… what was it? What happened?"

"Oh, Pan. It was just too much. Too much! There was a mirror and a snake and a rat. Oh, an _Will_! He was there. He looked so different, but he was still Will. He en't no one else. He's Will!"

Pantalaimon listened to her throaty rasping cries as she pressed him to her, more tears dripping out of her eyes and landing on his fur, seeping into his skin.

The daemon waited patientally for his human to calm down before asking her again. She told him truthfully, leaving nothing out, not even the footsteps. And the serious look Pan gave her was worse than anything. What could the dream mean?

"About the mirror. You saw faces in it?"

"Yeah. Will's face then a weird man then that skull…" Another sob shook her frame. And what was weird was she didn't even know why she was crying. About the dream? The skull? The footsteps? Then the sun came out and she let herself tremble in sorrow. Will…

Pantalaimon looked at her sympathetically. "D'you want to try sleep again? You need it. We got a big test tomorrow."

Lyra dreaded closing her eyes again, but the sense in Pan's words ebbed into her body like heat did when you came in from the cold. Slowly, but in a way that helped and gratified you. She nodded once then layed her head on the pillow, letting Pan curl up in front of her face.

"D'you think, Pan, we'll ever see them again?" There was no need to fill in the _them_. Pan understood perfectly. He was her after all.

Beady eyes turned toward her and he whispered:

"Yes. We will. When we die, for sure. But other than that, I can't say."

Lyra smiled a little, and comforted by Pan's words, she drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Crystal Mirror**

Chapter 2: A Thief

Lyra woke up to the sound of Pantalaimon leaping off of her none-too-cozy bed and onto the hard wooden floor, his claws clicking soothingly like the patter of rain on a metal roof. She looked up bleary-eyed, rubbing her hands to her face to clear the fog that overlapped her eyes.

With a great yawn, she heaved herself upward , and stumbled onto the floor, her night gown trailing in little billows behind her. Back in the day, when she wore such a gown, she and Pan would play a game they called Phantoms. She'd be the phantom and he'd run away from her, but if she caught him he was one of her zombie minions and they would leave to scare their urchin friends, pretending to be mindless and evil, hungry for their souls.

A flicker of temptation glowed in her eyes but she shook her head wearily. She was much too old for games of that sort. She gathered up her gown and walked to the narrow wardrobe that stood at the foot of her room. Without a word to Pan, she grabbed some clean clothes, a red blouse and matching skirt, then went to the bathing room, walking out of her room and down the hall.

She opened the door to the bath quietly. Inside, many other girls were bustling about. Some bathing in the five separate tubs of water, some doing their hair, and even some sitting on the cold floor, waiting on their friends to get done.

Lyra walked among the girls, careful not to touch them. Most of the girls hadn't taken a liking to her when she arrived, claiming she was a lying phony and that none of her stories were real. Though once Lyra would have put up a great fuss about that, she didn't mind. _She_ knew it was true, and that was all that mattered.

She quickly skirted a young girl's ermine daemon, the small creature carefully covering his eyes at the human's request and stumbling about, and made her way to one of the empty tubs, pulling the curtain as far around it as it would go. She washed, careful to get the smell of plants from the afternoon before out of her hair. She was the only girl who left the bording school on days that weren't designated. This meant the matter was very hush-hush. She wasn't allowed to tell anyone about it, else there'd be a riot. And the girls would surely guess if they smelled the queer plant-like aroma.

After a good washing, she dressed, and tidied herself, fixing her hair and washing her face in one of the sinks. She averted her eyes from any of the mirrors, feeling a bit sick after the dream, and hurried out of the room, Pantalaimon trailing behind her.

The day was a bore except when Professor Rebecca Kale dropped brandy, which was not allowed at the school, onto the floor by accident, a very meek look appearing on her face as Dame Hannah strolled past to see the entire scene. Of course, there was much gossip about that, but Lyra didn't partake in it. What was the point? She'd seen it happened. It was over. Why did they have to keep chattering about it?

But partial excitement had been growing in her breast all the day. Tomorrow was Saturday. And Saturday was the day when the bording school let all the girls loose over Oxford. It was their free day. She figured she's spend the whole day at the Botanic Garden like she usually did, but with much prompting from Pan, she decided against it. They would explore like old times.

In the mean time, she still studied and learned more and more about the alethiometer. She'd found two sequences that even Dame Hannah had overlooked and had earned the whole school's respect. Even the ruddy old ladies's who cooked and served breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They always smiled as she passed and gave her an extra scoop of ice cream for desert. And they gave her much more chocolatl then the other girls, which she took gladly, beaming with satisfaction at their snobby looks of envy.

But when Saturday finally came around, she was scared stiff.

"Oh, Pan, what if I don't go to the garden and he's there… all alone."

"You only agreed to go once a year." He pointed out, eyes hard. "You've been going much more than that. Lyra, you got to live your life. You can't spend every minute in the garden. It's unhealthy."

"I know, I know. But suppose he's there, and—"

"He won't be." growled Pantalaimon and he bared his tiny teeth in anger. "You gotta live, Lyra. Will wouldn't have wanted you to waste away your life like this. Come on. Let's get going."

Lyra involuntarily flinched at the sound of Will's name, and subdued, she followed Pan obediantly.

They got into inner Oxford by midday and Lyra clumsily walked down the cobblestone roads in a herd of other girls. Pan spoke quietly to one's daemon. The moth daemon seemed to like his company and it buzzed up to its human to whisper into her ear.

The red-headed human stared at Lyra and presently Lyra recognized her. She had always blended into the background with the other girls but now it was easy to tell who she was.

"You're from the Bolvanger!" she cried, whide-eyed.

The girl nodded. "Yeah, and I remember you. You saved us all." She grinned.

"But how…?"

"Soon as you got us out, the gyptians brought us home. Me and Alexius found our parents, but they didn' want us no more. They sent us to this boarding school to get us away from them." A flicker of sadness suffused her face.

"I'm sorry… And what was your name?"

"Bailey."

Lyra reached out and held the girl's hand, smiling ruefully. "Well, then. I suppose we're both survivors. And we got to stick together."

Pan nudged the moth playfully and Alexius buzzed around his head, laughing.

Bailey nodded uncertainly and then embraced Lyra in happiness. "I guess I felt so alone. It's good to have a friend." And then she pulled back and tilted her head to the side. "You are my friend, right?"

"Of course, I am."

And so they moved out of the herd of talking, gossiping girls and walked together, the sunlight shining down on them.

"There's this place up close." said Bailey suddenly. They'd been walking for an hour, silent and unsocial. "It's a candy shop. I used to go there when I was little. We could go there, couldn't we?"

"Sure," said Lyra flatly. She was still a little worked up about Will. Pan squeaked at her in his ermine voice:

"Don't think about him. Think about today. Think about tomorrow. You got your whole life ahead of you. You'll have to let go some time."

His words were too soft for Bailey to hear, but Lyra heard them clearly. Too clearly. She whirled around on her daemon and growled.

"I'll never let go of Will!"

Bailey looked back, startled by the sudden outburst. She put her hand on Lyra's shoulder, only for the girl to turn back around, tears masking her face.

"Lyra! What's the mat-"

"N-nothing. Just go wait at the candy shop. Take Pan with you. I have to leave f-for a minute."

"Pan? How can I take him with me?" That was right! No one knew about Pantalaimon's ability to be far away from Lyra, like a witch's daemon.

"You gotta keep this a secret, okay? Pan's able to go far distanses from me. J-just put him in your coat pocket. He'll fit. Just I need to be alone." And then she hurtled away, leaving Bailey bewildered and staring at Pantalaimon with an astounded expression. He blinked, watching his human run away from him. _She needs to get away from it all_, was all he thought before inconspicuously slipping into Bailey's pocket.

Lyra didn't know what she was feeling. All she knew was that she was angry with Pan. He wanted her to forget Will, to leave it all behind, like it never happened. But it _had_ happened and she would never forget it. In her upset state, she ran right into a man, making him stumble.

"Oh… I'm sorry." she sniffled, trying to hide her eyes.

The man was barely able to catch the weird looking mirror he held, saving it from shattering on the hard ground.

"What are you doing?" he growled, cradling the mirror. "You shouldn't be running around like that! You could have broken it!"

And for the first time, Lyra looked up to see the man's bearded face. It was familiar as if she'd seen it before. She tilted her head slightly to the side and then she saw the mirror. It was crystal framed in ugly brass. But the crystal was so beautiful that all of the bad things about it melted away.

"That mirror. May I see it?"

The man's face was incredulous. "See it? See it ?! Ha! I wouldn't let a child see this!"

"I'm not a child!" cried Lyra defiantly. "I'm sixteen!"

"Ah, then you're a lady?" said the man, raising an eyebrow. Beside him, his hyena daemon laughed at how uncertainly he had said it.

"No!" Lyra scowled and stamped her foot. "I'm not a lady! Nor a child. I'm a person, just like you, and I wanted to be treated like it. I'm not one of those urchins with dirty fingernails and I'm not one of those prissy girls at Rumulsa. I'm a person, just a person."

The man rubbed his beard in thought. What a fierce young lady – er,person.

"What does it do?" Lyra inquired, staring back at the mirror.

Kerry Johnson could have lied about the mirror and said, 'It's a mirror. What do you think it does?' But he was in the mood to boast. He'd made something great! Why not share it with others?

"It's a powerful device. I can use it to get into other worlds. The crystal can cut through anything like the subtle knife." Yes, Kerry Johnson did know about Lyra and Will's adventures and the subtle knife. But how could he know he was talking to the famous Lyra Silvertongue herself, whose life was the basis of all his research?

Lyra's mouth dropped open as the man rocked proudly back and forth on his heels. It would let her see Will again! But she had to be careful.

"I've heard of this subtle knife…" said Lyra, thinking fast. "But I bet you didn't know everytime you cut into another world you let a Specter out, and Dust leaks out. It would be bad to use."

Kerry beamed at the girl. That was exactly why he had set to work creating the contraption.

"But that's why it is a mirror and not a knife. That way it won't have to _cut_, therefore the Specters, I'm sure _you_ heard about them in that article I wrote, won't come out and the Dust will stay put. It actually squeezes you between universes, where Dust can't go, and pushes you out the other side, sealing the window up almost immediately. No Dust will be lost. And—"

It was too late. Lyra had lurched forth and grabbed the mirror. She began to run away with it.

"Wait! Girl! _Girl_!"

Lyra was already around the corner of a street and into an alley.

Pantalaimon sensed the spike of excitement in his human and leaped out of Bailey's pocket, scampering down the street. Bailey whirled around, a lollypop in her mouth. She dropped it at once.

"Pantalaimon?!"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Crystal Mirror**

Chapter 3: Will's Sin

William Parry sat behind a desk, watching the teacher with bored eyes. He'd ridden atop a polar bear, killed men, and lost two fingers. With all the adventures he'd been on, he shouldn't have to go to _school_. But he knew he needed to. He had to be successful to support his mother.

Speaking of which, the elderly piano lady he had left her in the care of hadn't given away his secret! No. She had kept his mother perfectly safe, and had made sure she was never seen by anyone, and no one got suspicious about why the old lady's time was so tied up. And all of that work when her husband was ill! Yes, the mister had been unlucky enough to catch the influenza and it had been really bad on him, considering he was not seventy-one years old. But he had survived. And when Will had learned all of that, he had felt like things were finally going to be good and safe…

But they'd never be. The police were still after him and he had to go to school under a new name: William Belacqua. Yes, he had taken Lyra's old name and made his own, sort of a reminder that he was still hers and she was still his. A deep sadness, timeless and intense, hit him and he worked hard not to tear up during class.

A paper ball suddenly sailed across the room, making a _whooshing_ sound, and hit him in the back of the head. He jumped, for he was still as paranoid as could be, considering everything that had happened to him. With frantic eyes, he looked up. The teacher hadn't noticed. In a slow manner, he turned around, searching every face for the culprit who had _attacked _him. A blonde girl sat loosely in her desk, grinning. She pointed at the paper ball on the floor by his desk.

Will raised a brow inquisitively before bending low to pick it up. He folded it out, laying it flat on his wooden desk to see the words scribbled in pink pen ink. It read:

_Meet me in the restroom after class. In the guy's restroom._

Will understood at once and an idea hit him. He flipped open a small box of pens he'd laid on the ground to pick up a blue pen. Then he put the pen to the paper and wrote underneath the pink ink. Making sure the teacher was preoccupied by a long and complicated problem on the chalkboard; he tossed the paper back to her.

_Okay._

The girl beamed in happiness, and Will sat straighter, eager for the bell to ring, signaling the end of the class. It did and he scurried out of the class and to his locker. There, he threw his old books in, and took out the materials for the next class. With his blue pen, he forged the previous teacher's handwriting into a late-note on a loose piece of paper. He expected to be late.

Then, he placed his books at the foot of his locker, and glancing right and left, walked casually into the boy's restroom.

He poked his head in, and seeing no one, walked all the way into the cold area. And once more, he was attacked. The blonde burst out of one of the stalls, and rammed into his chest, briefly knocking the air out of him despite her puny size. She pushed him into the nearest stall. Once there, she shoved him onto the closed toilet seat and pressed her lips to his.

Will was surprised but nonetheless, he kissed back, tasting her lips greedily. He wrapped his arms around her and let her take control, planting random kisses here and there along his neck before touching his moist lips once more. They were making out.

But something was wrong with Will. She didn't taste like Lyra. The rich bubblegum lip-gloss she had heavily coated on her mouth couldn't compare to Lyra's infinitely soft lips. And he felt strange. He shouldn't have done this. Yes, he had wondered what it would be like to kiss another girl, but Lyra was so much better. The only one for him. He shouldn't have even tried this, whatever _this_ was.

Suddenly and brutally, Will shoved the girl off of him and slammed the stall door open. He marched out. The girl stood dumbfounded. What had just happened?

Will left the restroom entirely and walked to the sink. There, he repeated in washing his mouth out over and over again, trying to remember Lyra's lips, Lyra's love. And he was disgusted with himself and the girl for even trying to please him the way Lyra had. He was _Lyra's_ Will. And he'd never belong to anyone else.

Hot tears began to roll down his face. Why was it that when he was happy – finally happy – he had to have it torn away from him? He felt like someone had reached into his chest and torn his heart out, throwing it to the ground while it still dumbly reverberated.

Upset, Will spat out the last of the wretched lip-gloss that had entered his mouth. He walked to his locker where his books lay, untouched, and picked them up. He did the locker's combination by memory and swiftly pulled out his rucksack, stuffing books inside.

The bell rang one more, a long unfeeling sound. Will barely heard it. He scowled and slung the pack over his shoulder. He'd ditch school today. With that, he walked right out the front door, not caring if the invisible cameras had caught him on tape.

***

Will sat, cross-legged, on the bench at the Botanic Garden. He knew_ his _Lyra would not be there. The day they had agreed on had already passed to Will's displeasure. Kirjava, his daemon, met him there.

Since Will had began to attend school once more, Kirjava had stayed at the Botanic Garden, hiding in the lush greenery and hunting rats in the alleyway outside of it. If he were to bring her to school, he didn't know what would happen. Certainly nothing good. So she hid. And they didn't spend much time together.

"I felt it. You kissed someone?" she accused impassively, lying on the bench beside Will, tail draped over the side comfortably. She was a subtle feline, various shades of black and blue and others scattered across her long fur. She'd settled that way so long ago.

"I feel horrible about it." said Will in a hard tone. "She wasn't Lyra. She was no one. I shouldn't have even tried it."

"Yes, you should have." Replied Kirjava decisively. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have found out that Lyra was the only option."

Will cast a sorrowful look down at his daemon, her tail tip now flicking back and forth over the ground. "And I'll never see Lyra again. I should have… I should have…"

"You should have what?" inquired Kirjava delicately.

"Something!" cried Will in despair. "I should have done _something. _I can never love again. It's horrible. Too horrible…"

"You _can _love, Will. You love your mother, don't you?" said Kirjava flatly.

"That's different."

"It's not."

They sat in silence for a long while.

Then something happened.

Will hadn't realized it, but as he spiraled into depression, he became drowsy and started to doze off, Kirjava watching him with large eyes as his head fell to the side.

_CRASH!_

Will leaped up off the bench, suddenly alert; his fists raised high, his chest falling up and down frantically. He whirled around, his feet rotating him. A patch of air was full of life. There were sparks flying from it and that same crashing sound, rough and loud like shattering glass. And then there was a patch in the air, like the kind the subtle knife used to make and out came a young girl. She tripped on the ground and collided into Will, sending him to the ground.

There, he lay, bewildered, the girl on top of him. The smell of hazel filled his nostrils and he knew at once who the miracle on top of him was. He quickly looked over her shoulder to see the window sealing _itself_. It was quick and in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

"Oh… Sorry. Did you see that? Well, um…"

"Lyra…?"

The girl, surprised, finally looked at his face and he looked at hers. She gasped. And he breathed deeply.

Lyra looked exactly the same, but so different. Her face was narrow and she was more gorgeous then she had been when she was twelve, if that was possible. Pantalaimon was nearby and he could_ feel _him rubbing his fur up against Kirjava, uttering a throaty purr.

"Oh, Will! It's you! It's really you!"

"How… How did you—"

She cut him off, desperately pushing her soft lips to his. And Will kissed back, tasting her lips with such gratefulness that she would never understand. Their faces were pressed together, small tears rolling down both teenager's faces in gratitude and love. Finally they broke apart, both longing to do it again.

"Lyra, my love…"

"Oh, Will…"


	4. Chapter 4

**The Crystal Mirror**

Chapter 4: The Alethiometer

Lyra sat on the bench in the Botanic Garden, Will right beside her. His hand overlapped hers laying on the dew-wet wood. Her head was tilted to the side, pressing gently at the nape of his neck, and with his other hand, he leaned to stroke her hair softly. They had been like that for sometime, but Lyra could see that Will's mind was racing with many questions, almost as many as the ones that she was thinking of.

"It's funny to see you controlling yourself like this." She let out a dry laugh. "Back in the day, you would have demanded that I tell you everything." The sentence felt queer on her tongue. _Back in the day._ Was the 'day' even over yet?

"Okay," murmured Will, his chin on her head, nostrils flaring as he inhaled her addictive scent. "Then…" He smiled. "_How the hell did you get here?!_"

Humor accented Lyra's eyes. "It's amazing, Will. This man – I dunno who he was – created a mirror…" And for the first time, she showed him the contraption she had held when she had stumbled into him. She pulled it out of her rucksack, and placed it on Will's thigh. He gazed at it curiously. A crystal mirror, framed in an old-fashioned, gruesome brass.

"_This_ got you here?"

Lyra delicately punched him in the side. "I _know. _It's ugly. But, Will, it's so beautiful, too!" She didn't know how to explain it. When she had seen it in Kerry Johnson's hand, she'd fallen in love with it. Like the way she had grown attached to the alethiometer, before the power of reading it had so abruptly left her. And like Will's attraction to the subtle knife. "And you wouldn't believe the sensation! It en't like the knife at all. It actually _squeezes _you between worlds. I felt like I was flat."

Will pulled back, and gave her a curious look. And Lyra felt her heart skip a beat. And so she told him everything, about the boarding school, about Bailey, about the man she'd stolen the mirror from. About everything.

And Will took it all in with an impassive expression upon his face. When she had finished, he picked up the knife, and twirled it about in his hands. "Now that I think about it, it is pretty beautiful." He pressed his lips to her cheek, sending chills down her spine. "Like you." She smiled.

And, hand in hand, they got off the bench and walked out of the Botanic Garden, heading home or to Will's 'new' home.

***

Mary Malone lay on her sofa, watching TV with bored eyes. She'd been through so much. The _mulefa_, for one, and her dearly missed friend Atal. It was hard to return to the boring world that was her own.

Ms. Parry sat in the dining room, one leg over the other, as she scribbled across a piece of paper. Since Will had come back to his own world, Mary Malone had let him live with her. Of course, they couldn't go back to Ms. Parry's house, and they couldn't live in Mary's cramped apartment, either. So she had used all the money she had, every cent, to buy them a roomy home in Oxford. She had taken the role of Will's lovely aunt and Ms. Parry was Will's 'paranoid' mother, who too self-conscious to go outside into the public.

So far it had worked out pretty well. No one suspected her of anything and the family was safe. Yes, she had started to think of Will as family, taking the young not-quite-a-man-yet under her wing. To her delight, he seemed to have taken an interest in physics and everything to do with science, but more so then that, he liked learning about humans. How they worked, their bodies. Mary was quite sure he'd be a docter when he grew up.

And his mother! What a delightful person. The illness Will had spoken about had all but leaked out of her in the time that Mary had lived with her, though she did have certain episodes. In fact, she was doing Mary's bills right now, calculating and writing down information. She had Mary's laptop in her lap, ready to flip it out when needed.

Ms. Parry had been slightly concerned when Will hadn't come home that day, but she knew he was safe. He was sixteen after all. He was responsible. If only she had known about Will's incident with the blonde girl in the restroom at school. But she was full of good hope. She knew when Will wasn't home he was at that garden, not far from their home, thinking about that young girl he had told her so much about. Yes, Ms. Parry knew all about Lyra and Will's adventures. She hadn't believed him at first, but gradually, she began to think he was telling truth. It wasn't like Will to lie after all.

_Squeak…_

Mary and Ms. Parry both looked up at once to see the front door opening with a quiet sound. Will walked in, a broad smile on his usually expressionless face. It warmed Ms. Parry's heart to see her son happy, and she watched curiously as he came in, wndering what had put that grin on her son's face.

He led in a young girl, clutching her hand tightly like he'd never let go. Mary Malone gasped in surprise. She lurched off the sofa, and stumbled across the room.

"Lyra? Lyra?! Is that you, dear? Oh, you look so grown up. You're gorgeous!"

Mary embraced the girl, almost lifting her off the ground. The girl higged back, startled, but loving all the same. She grinned into Mary's shoulder, happy.

Ms. Parry stood up and closed the distance between the dining room and the girl quickly. When Mary finally let go, the young 'lady' took a step back and caught Ms. Parry's eye. She stiffened.

It was the first time Lyra had ever seen Will's mother. It was startling how much he resembled her. The same dark, curly hair, the same shape of the face. They even carried themselves in the same manner! But Lyra had seen John Parry, too. As a ghost. And she knew Will's eyes were his father's, fierce and authoritive.

Then Ms. Parry spoke:

"Lyra? Are you the girl my Will's been talking so much about? From a different world?"

Lyra, struck by Ms. Parry's cool, calm, and collected voice, could only nodd. She reminded her of her own mother, the infamous Mrs. Coulter. And she was also shocked. Will had described his mom as odd and ill. This woman was nothing of the sort.

Will must have sensed her bewilderment because he gave a quaint jerk of the head, signaling that they'd speak about his mother later.

Before she could speak, Ms. Parry took a step forward and hugged her in the same manner Mary had only seconds before. After a quick moment, she pulled back and gave a smile.

"Thank you."

"F-for what-t?" was all Lyra could get out.

"For giving Will his first friend."

Lyra nodded uncertainly, returning Ms. Parry's smile.

"Well, Lyra!" cried Mary, and Lyra jumped, all but forgetting the young ex-nun. "How did you get here? Will broke the knife so long ago…"

And so Lyra was welcomed into Will's home. She took a seat on the couch, and settled into her story telling mode, like when she was younger, telling them everything that had occurred.

***

Lyra lay in Will's bed, Will behind her, his arms wrapped around her, the blankets up to their necks. Pantalaimon and Kirjava were outside, talking in the moonlight. Since there were no other bedrooms in the house beside the three ones already used, Mary loosely agreed that Lyra could sleep in Will's, giving them booth strict glares. Now Will's face was pressed into her hair, his bare chest (so he wouldn't get too hot with the other warm being in his bed) pushed against her back.

"Will?"

He grunted in response, quietly smelling her hazel-scented hair.

"Why's your mother so… so…"

"So normal?" he said abruptly.

"Um, yeah." murmured Lyra, wondering if that was the right thing to say.

"Well, she was always 'normal'. Just some days she wouldn't be, acting a but strange. But since I got back those days have been getting fewer and fewer. I reckon his has something to do with my father. I think she can _feel _him floating around us."

"Oh." was all Lyra said.

They sat in silence for a couple minure before:

"Lyra?"

"Huh?"

"Did you… did you…" Will frowned. "Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

"Oh, Will! Of course, I did. I went to the garden and the bench almost every day I could. I missed you so much. I always wished I was with you." Lyra trembled, and Will tightened his hold to steady her.

"I went, too. Every day I could as well. Ha, all those days I thought you weren't there. I was with you all the time. Jeez, it's so good to hold you again, to kiss you. I was so… lost." He wouldn't have admitted that to anyone else.

"And now we can be together all the time. I got the mirror so I can travel between worlds all the time. To mine and back to yours. That way I can stay here, and I won't get ill. It will be a paradise, Will! We'll be together forever."

"I know, and I'm so happy. But there is plenty of time to talk about everything. For now, sleep. We've been through a long and weird day." said Will, grinning into her hair.

"Okay… Sweet dreams, Will."

"Sweet dreams, Lyra."

In fact, though, Lyra's dreams weren't 'sweet' at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Crystal Mirror**

Chapter 5: The Alethiometer Part 2

_It felt as if she was falling. Just falling with no way up. Into oblivion she went, and she could do nothing. Just fall and fall until she met ground. But then…_

_SNAP!_

_It was as if Lyra's back had been broken in half. She was propelled through the air, and she looked behind her only to gasp. Sparkling, white angel wings were protruding out of her shoulder joints, beating fiercely. And then voices filled the air. Timeless yet ancient voices. They all said the same thing:_

"_Our gift… Our gift…"_

_And not having any power over the wings, Lyra let them lead her forward through the darkness. It was like everything was melting around them, the very fabric of reality ebbing away. The obscurity left to be replaced by the same way she had been walking through in her last dream. Lyra suddenly felt scared, and she tried to turn away, but the wings, keeping her three feet or so off the ground, would not let her, and pulled her onward._

_Then, she saw that crystal again, and the face of Kerry Johnson appeared. She froze. That was the same man she had stolen the mirror from, and he looked angry. _

_It showed him in some sort of bedroom, his hyena trying to comfort him as he kicked and shoved things over in a furious tantrum. But what scared Lyra more than anything was the look in his eye. He was going to kill her if he got the chance. A gulp racked her slender frame._

_Then the mirror disappeared altogether, vanishing in a plume of smoke. It was replaced by a golden…_

_Lyra felt her breath catch in her throat. The alethiometer. She was reminded of how abruptly her only power had left her, and how feeble she had felt when it was gone. Nothing, not even the mirror, had been able to mend that broken feeling._

_But there was a weird air about it. The same calmness fell over her, and she watched as the arrows directed themselves at pictures, knowing exactly what they were asking._

_**Can I read the althiometer again?**_

_The longest arrow swung round and round, stopping on three pictures. The baby, the angel, and the ant._

_**Yes, but there is much work to be done.**_

Lyra woke with a start, shooting upright. Her hand reached out to the place Will's head would have rested, but only touched blanket. Thinking something was horribly wrong, she swept hair out of her face and raced to the door, panicking. She was surprised to find the door jarring her in the forehead, making her fall over.

"Oh! Sorry, Lyra! _Are you okay?_" Will was on the ground, kneeling by her side and putting something to the side, out of vision. He made a gruesome face.

"Oh, crap. The side of your head. There's going to be a bad bruise." He helped her up, and the words of her dream rang in her head. _Our gift… Our gift…_

"My gift was to be slammed in the head?" said Lyra, receiving a odd look from Will. He steadied her wobbling legs, and bent down to pick up the bowl which he had placed down when helping her.

"Eh, breakfast, if you still want it." He handed her the bowl and a spoon. Lyra looked into the bowl curiously. Milk lapped at soggy circles of sugar in an unappetizing way.

"Oh… circles."

Will let out a dry laugh. "They may not have this in your world, I guess. It's cereal, just try it. It's not that bad."

Lyra looked at him doubtfully before clumsily maneuvering the spoon around the bowl and scooping up some of the circles. She stared at them for a few seconds before stuffing them in her mouth. To her surprise, it was actually pretty good.

Will grinned at her shocked expression. "I better leave you two alone," he joked, pretending to turn on his heel.

_Our gift… Our gift… _And it hit Lyra, not literally of course. She's already been hit in the head that morning. But a _thought _hit her.

"Will! Just wait right here." And she scrambled out the door, leaving the bewildered Will to ponder what she was going to do.

Lyra ran to the dining room, where she had left her things before going to bed. She dug through her rucksack, and retrieved the alethiometer, bathed in black velvet. Tearing the velvet off, she shoved the golden item into her face, sluggishly settling into serenity.

She turned the arrows gently, testing it and asking something only she would know:

_**Who's Iofur Raknison?**_

The longest arrow swung once more, landing on the hourglass with the dreadful skull, the lightning, and the greek letters.

_**The dead bear king.**_

Lyra gasped. It had come back. _It had come back!_

_Our gift to you… _A chuckle seemed to hint the echoing words. But Lyra had no time to wonder about that. Holding the alethiometer to her chest, she hurtled toward the bedroom and Will.

Once in, she laughed happily.

"Thanks, Will! Thanks for hitting me in the head!"

Will, his face changing from concern to alarm, put his hands on her shoulders, for she seemed a bit dizzy. "Uh, you're welcome…? Are you sure you're okay, Lyra?"

She shook her head, feeling jazzed and unable to keep still. "The alethiometer! I can read it again. You knocked it back into me when you hit be in the head."

She could tell that Will had serious doubts about that, but nonetheless, hugged him.

"Well, it must have come back for a reason. Like you had it before to help us make that window for the world of the dead." He inclined his head. "Ask it for the reason."

Will watched impassively as Lyra sat on his bed, clearing the hair out of her face to read the swinging arrows. She seemed to fall into a trance, and after a moment, she looked up.

"It's really murky, Will. I can barely understand. But I _think _it says to build something."

"Try to ask what," he said, watching her every movement.

She nodded and looked down at the alethiometer. She looked up only a few seconds after. _She's getting faster as it gets more and more familiar. _

She looked a bit startled.

"What did it say?"

"To build… to build… heaven?"

(Author's note: **Yeah, not much muse. It's a bit short.**)


End file.
